Harry Potter and The Malicious Malady
by Prongs595
Summary: The Trio find themselves faced by a magical disease as well as Lord Voldemort!  What will the outcome be?  Written by myself and my friend Padfoot!  He does even chapters and I do the Odds!  Not finished at all, and may never be but who knows!
1. Chapter 1: Owl Intercepted

CHAPTER ONE

Owl Intercepted

As Harry Potter slept, a storm raged outside of number four Privet drive. A bolt of lighting split the sky with a loud crash, and the boy who lived sat bolt upright in bed, sweat drenching his forehead. Harry looked wildly around, adrenaline coursing through his body, pain searing the scar on his forehead. Seeing now immanent danger Harry began to relax a little and began kneading his temples, trying desperately to remember the dream he had been having.

Voldemort and a group of death eaters had been walking down a street, blasting animals, shrubs, anything that they passed. The Death Eaters had been walking in a storm. Harry reached for his wand and glasses, hoping against hope that Voldemort wasn't in the little Whinging. Harry quickly got out of bed, dressed, and was about to open his door when the thought occurred to him; tell Dumbledore. Harry quickly went to his desk and found a piece of parchment in his trunk, inked his quill and began to write.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_Just this night I had another dream involving Voldemort. He was walking with a group of Death Eaters, down a populated street. He was in a storm, and when I woke up, it was storming outside. I don't know if he is in the little Whinging, or if it was just a nightmare. I'm planning to stay in the house unless something happens. Please reply._

_Harry_

Harry rolled the parchment up, and set it in a weather beaten leather pouch, which he then tied to Hedwig's leg.

"Hedwig I need you to find Professor Dumbledore as fast as you can" Harry whispered, stroking her back gently.

She nipped his finger reassuringly, feeling the nervous tension in his rigid fingers. Harry carried her over to the window, and flung it open with one hand, allowing the torrents of rain to flood into the room. Harry secured the pouch on her leg and patted Hedwig's head apologetically.

"Sorry you have to go out in this girl"

Hedwig hooted softly and took flights, fighting through the rain. Harry watched her fade into the distance, illuminated every so often by a bolt of lighting.

After Hedwig and melted into the treacherous night sky, Harry flopped down on his bed however thoughts of sleep would not come. He lay there, feeling his spine tingle from nerves. Harry was bolt upright once more as a massive crack of thunder split the stormy night air. Feeling rather vulnerable in his room Harry crept silently into the hallway, and down the stairs, jumping the squeaking steps so as not to wake the Dursley's. His wand at the ready, Harry checked the empty house for intruders, simply to calm his nerves slightly.

Harry ended his search in the living room, peering out of the cold glass windows into the stormy night. The room was lit for a split second with lightning, which cast ominous shadows upon the walls. Harry pressed his nose against the glass, trying desperately to see if an owl was approaching, bearing Dumbledore's response. Then from over the trees came a small object, speeding toward number four. Harry filled with relief, thinking that it was Hedwig with Dumbledore's letter, and was about to fling the windows open when they object collided with the glass, making a terrible bang. Bending close to the window Harry looked down into the wavering light, finding to his disappointment, that it had been nothing but a gnarled tree branch. A crash of lightning exploded in the yard in front of him. Harry barely caught a scream as he stumbled backward into an end table, knocking a lamp off, which promptly shattered into tiny pieces.

Panic suddenly ran cold through Harry's veins as he realized that his Aunt and Uncle would have surely heard that racket. The night seemed to grow darker around him as he heard a massive groan from the stairs, straining under his uncles weight.

"BOY!" Uncle Vernon shouted, his moustache quivering in his anger. "WHAT IS THIS?" He questioned imperiously, pointing to the pieces of shattered lamp littering the carpet.

"I, I couldn't see-"

"SILENCE!" Uncle Vernon roared.

Harry, realizing that he was still holding his wand made to stuff it out of sight however Uncle Vernon had already seen it.

"HOW DARE YOU BRING THAT THING OUT IN MY HOUSE"

"You'll be a lot happier to see me with my wand out when Voldemort shows up at the door!" Harry spat angrily.

"Enough of your idiotic mumbo-jumbo, I'll not tolerate it in my house!" "And if you think this Voldie-whosie can scare me you and he have got another thing comi-arrghhhhh!" Uncle Vernon finished with a high pitched scream as the window when careening into the room, knocked clean off its hinges by the owl on top of it.

Harry rushed over to the owl to see if it was hurt, however the owl snapped at his finger urgently and stuck out its leg. Harry quickly took the pouch from the owl, praying he would find the explanation from Dumbledore. As Harry opened the pouch he heard Vernon muttering.

"Ruddy Owls, no end, might as well leave the windows open; owls! I'll give them a couple owls!"

Harry plunged his hand into the pouch to find a scrap of rain weathered parchment. As he examined the scrap, he noticed it seemed to have been ripped as if in haste. Flipping the parchment over he found only one word; _Harry_, written in a long loopy script.

"Well boy?" Vernon demanded "what are those bloody freaks saying to you now?"

"They aren't freaks!" Harry shouted, turning to face his Uncle.

"I'll not be spoken to like that boy!" Vernon bellowed back, his facing turning the color of a plump radish, "Now give me that damn LETTER!"

"There's nothing on it, just my name" said Harry truthfully.

"GIVE IT HERE BOY" Vernon screamed, his cheeks beginning a transition to deep purple.

Harry flung the parchment to the ground at Vernon's feet, scowling.

"How dare you disrespect me, after everything we do for you!? Get to your room NOW!" Vernon spat, positively furious.

Harry sprinted to the stairs as Vernon took a swipe at him. Leaping up the staircase, his Uncle tailing behind him, Harry threw himself into his room as Vernon slammed his door shut so viciously that the Calendar marking the days left until his return to Hogwarts fell from the wall over his bed. Harry walked furiously over and tacked the calendar back up with a loud thump as he heard the lock turn on his door and the stairs squeak under his uncle's enormous weight as Vernon Dursley thundered downstairs muttering "Ruddy boy and is ruddy kind, I'll set him straight, I will!"

Harry's anger sparked at this but was instantly replaced by his nerves as a clap of thunder sent his hair on end. Harry Potter fell into bed and glanced at his clock which faintly illuminated his walls with an iridescent green glow; 12:01.

"Another wonderful start to another wonderful birthday" Harry groaned, flopping back onto his back. As he shut is eyes Harry felt the weight of his nerves fall heavily onto his chest, and he fell into an uneasy sleep.


	2. Chapter 2: A Bed of Roses

CHAPTER TWO

A Bed of Roses

The following morning Harry opened his eyes to dazzling sunlight coming through the narrow gap in his curtains, and falling across the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Harry rose, still clothed in his muggle best of a worn pair of blue jeans and an old t-shirt with a lopsided neck hole that had once belonged to his cousin Dudley.

Heading out the door to his room Harry went downstairs to find the Dursley's immaculate kitchen empty from the night before. It was apparent that the Dursley's had already erased all evidence of the prior nights storm from their home, and Harry could judge by the brown puff of hair bobbing outside the kitchen windowsill that his Aunt Petunia was already working busily to restore their yard to its meticulous uniformity with every other lawn on Privet Drive. The cold piece of toast and half filled glass of water upon the table seemed to Harry to be a particularly extravagant birthday offering from the Dursley's who had never given him so much as a new pair of socks, and had been stubbornly trying to ignore that he existed all summer. In fact, the only time Harry was addressed by the Dursley's these days was when they were either making disparaging comments (that usually occurred when a member of the Dursley's household was having a particularly good day) or when they were barking out orders to him for each day of yard work that had occupied Harry all summer. Cramming the dusty bread into his mouth, Harry set out for another days toil, trying to ignore his peeling, sun burnt shoulders, rubbed raw by a moths hard labor in little Whinging. He took his work without protest, preferring mind numbing monotony and sweltering heat to the haunting memories of the death of his godfather Sirius that dominated his thoughts at such rare times when he was idle. Petunia noticed him with a mixed look of dislike and disinterest, extending her lower jaw and making her bony face look distinctively horse like."You'll be planting French roses today" said Petunia briskly without looking at him. "In that bed there" she pointed at a flowerbed filled with what Harry saw to be perfectly good flowers, with twelve potted roses standing alongside it. Without comment Harry kneeled and began his work.

Blood dried, then flowed again as Harry's calloused hands were punctured again and again by the rose thorns. The muggy July air seemed almost hypnotic as it weighed heavily upon him, magnifying the sounds of passing insects and the neighbor's gurgling hosepipe. The sun gradually descended along the long arc it had followed throughout the day, casting long shadows upon the Dursley's lawn. If a passerby had been watching from the street, Harry would have appeared oddly distorted in the muted light, his skeletal frame toiling in the shadows. The summer's hard labor had indeed taken a tole on Harry, though nobody; including Harry himself, seemed to have noticed. His jet-black hair, though messy as ever, hung loosely by his ears, and his glasses sat dusty and askew upon his now bony face. Though he had grown several inches since his stay at the Dursely's the prior summer, Dudley's old clothes fit more loosely than ever as Harry grew ever thinner from his relentless work. Harry finished planting the last of the lurid yellow roses and made several trips to discard the flowers that had formerly inhabited the bed in several rubbish bins at the curb, before collapsing back onto the lawn with exhaustion. His mind began to drift, as it had so many times that summer, swiftly back to the department of mysteries, in that amphitheatre shaped room with its cold stone benches, and that torn black sheet, fluttering in a nonexistent wind. He remembered how the glow of Bellatrix's spell had illuminated the laughter on Sirius's face before he plunged gracefully though the archway, and was gone. A wave of sadness washed over Harry once again, but was interrupted by a harsh bark issuing from is uncle at the door. "Get in here and clean up the dinner boy" bellowed Uncle Vernon, who promptly turned on heel and marched back into the house, taking the golden chink of light issuing from the doorway with him.

Harry looked around, finally noticing that it had gotten dark, and reluctantly trudged back inside number 4 Privet Drive. The Dursley's were seated around the kitchen table, obviously having just finished their meal, and were laughing uproariously at a story their son Dudley, who now resembled an overweight gorilla with a blond bowl cut, had just been telling. Upon catching sight of Harry the Dursley's began to leave the table, leaving Harry to clean up the dishes. "Have a fun day in the yard did we pottykins?" said Dudley, grinning stupidly.

"Beat up any children today Dudders?" retorted Harry coolly, feeling his anger slowly rising inside.

"I'll have no more of your filthy lies in this house!" shouted Vernon, turning a mottled shade of puce, behind whom Dudley was clenching his fists menacingly.

"Does my Diddykins look like the sort to hurt children?" chimed in Petunia, as Dudley did his very best to look as innocent as possible.

"He looks about as innocent as he looks thin!" shouted Harry hotly, "What happened to the boxing? Miss the weight class by a few hundred pounds Flubbykins?"

Petunia let out a little scream of rage, Uncle Vernon's eye gave a tremendous tick, and Dudley gave a low "oh" of late comprehension before flexing his ham-like arm menacingly. Already knowing what was coming Harry turned and bolted up the stairs into his room, where he knew he would soon be locked, and forced to battle his hunger until the following morning. Sure enough, no sooner had he flopped down upon his bed that he heard thundering footsteps flying up the stairs and the metal bolt on the outside of his door slam shut soon after.

Even with his oncoming battle with hunger, Harry felt quite relieved to be back in his room and away from the Dursley's. Though the space could not exactly be described as warm or inviting, he had done his best to make it feel somewhat homey. Harry's favorite set of books, Practical Defensive Magic and How to Use It, a gift from Sirius and Lupin the prior Christmas, were lovingly concealed beneath his bed, and his Hogwarts letter, bearing the results of his O.W.L.s was taped to the wall over his bed. Harry rolled over and examined the letter upside-down, reading the results of his examinations for what must have been the fiftieth time since he received them a week before.

Herbology

E

Exceeds Expectations

History of Magic

D

Dreadful

Transfiguration

O

Outstanding

Charms

E

Exceeds Expectations

Defense Against the Dark Arts

O

Outstanding

Potions

O

Outstanding

Astronomy

P

Poor

Care of Magical Creatures

E

Exceeds Expectations

Divination

T

Troll


End file.
